


Dragonslayer

by InsertImaginativeNameHere



Series: The Stuff of Legend [1]
Category: Baccano!
Genre: Abusive Family, Abusive Parents, Angst, Backstory, Emotional Abuse, F/M, First Meeting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, It's fun I swear, Miria Does Not Have A Happy Time, Physical Abuse, Traumatic Backstory, Why did I write this these kids deserve better?, Yes I know everyone writes one of these but this is a fun one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-05 20:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10316711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertImaginativeNameHere/pseuds/InsertImaginativeNameHere
Summary: Isaac doesn't even think about saving the girl, and he can't imagine how drastically it will change his life. He just does it, because he's like that. And so it begins.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay I should be writing detective au and I AM I SWEAR I worked on it today and got a fair bit written, need to edit and stuff. Still gonna be a while. But this has been sitting around for months and I've decided a direction for it and now I'm writing it again. And it's going well.  
> Since Miria has an implied tragic backstory, I'm going with that. Entirely my own direction of course. Apologies for hurting these beautiful children.

He locked the doors behind them, breath racing heavily as he leaned against it. They’d lost the man pursuing them several blocks back but he still didn’t want to take any risks. It felt as though someone was about to kick the doors in at any moment, that he’d feel the force of a boot and the man would burst in, waving a knife, and Isaac had very little to fight back with. He’d dropped the pineapple immediately after hitting the man in the face with it at full force, grabbing the girl’s hand instead and running, running, running, losing themselves in the crowds and making an escape. Only after they were inside did he let go of her hand, and she pulled away, retreating into a corner, knees pressed to her chin. It looked almost like she was sucking her thumb. How old was she? It was hard to tell; she was very, very skinny.

Her hair was long and blonde, and there was a clump of it missing, where the man they’d escaped together had been dragging her along. She had a black eye and a split lip, and there was a papercut-thin mark on her throat where a knife had left its mark. She stared out at him with big, brown eyes, terrified and child-like, and Isaac couldn’t help feeling protective. Sitting down on the floor, he smiled at her.

“Hey. I’m Isaac. Isaac Dian. What’s your name?” 

The girl was quiet. After a brief hesitation she said, almost inaudibly, her high, sweet voice quavering slightly, “Miria.” She didn’t give a surname, she said nothing else. Just that. And then went back to staring at him strangely. 

Isaac didn’t much like silence. Whenever he went anyway, he felt compelled to fill it, which had got him lectured several times in school, or after church services. He sometimes didn’t realise that questions could be rhetorical, and didn’t understand why people asked them if they didn’t want an answer. Even when he was alone, he would talk, reading out novels to his collection of toy soldiers - until he’d become too old for toys and they were taken away, and he found himself reading out novels to empty space, or sometimes just talking, to fill that silence. His family found this habit odd and tried to quash it, to no avail.

“Why’d you talk to yourself so much, Isaac?” his sister Aline had asked once. 

“You practise singing all the time. What’s the difference?”

“ _ I _ practise singing to get better at it,” Aline had humphed. “ _ You _ , on the other hand, don’t need to get better at talking. You ought to practise staying quiet instead.” With that, she had flounced off to her room. Isaac had been the one to get into trouble over that. Isaac always was. His sister had the temperament of a prima donna and could be excused for murder because of ‘the art’ in her veins. Isaac would receive a tongue-lashing for reading novels instead as studying, and ‘making up stories’ when so far as he knew, he was telling the truth. He really didn’t understand his family.

The way he saw it, he  _ was _ practising talking. Practising storytelling. Filling the silence with something else, something  _ better _ . 

So he started talking to the girl, partly to settle himself and fill that silence, partly to reassure her. 

“Miria, eh? That’s a good name. That’s the kind of name a rich lady would have, no, a princess, the fairest in the land with the voice of an angel.”

The girl tittered slightly. “A princess? Like in a storybook?”

“Exactly, Miria,” Isaac continued, matter-of-factly. “A fair maiden in a storybook of old, living in a faraway land.”

The girl was quiet. “In a castle?” she piped up suddenly. 

“Yes! In a castle, with a hundred servants waiting on her hand and foot!” He frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “However, all our domestic help went with the rest of the family to Europe for Aline’s tour so...you’ve just got me. Never fear, Miria, I can labour as hard as a hundred  _ thousand  _ servants, you don’t have to worry with me here.”

Miria gave a watery smile. “Th-thank you.”

“No problem. Say, who was that man bothering you?” Miria was starting to uncurl from her protective ball, but the minute he asked that, she hugged her knees even tighter, eyes flashing with fear. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. But if I ever see the villain again, I’ll sock him on the nose with my mean right hook.” That was a phrase he’d seen in a book, and he thought it might make him sound strong and impressive to the birdlike girl. If he could protect her, maybe she’d be happy. Maybe she’d smile again. That’d be nice, if he could make someone smile.

“You’d do that?” she asked nervously, eyes wide in awe. 

“Of course I would!” Isaac exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “For you, dearest Miria, I’d do anything.” Never mind that he’d only met her less than an hour ago, that he only had a first name to go on, that he knew nothing about her circumstances or why she’d been in such a perilous situation to begin with, he was determined to protect her. To keep her safe. To make sure she was happy.

He looked back at her and saw she was shaking, sobs racking her body and he was unsure what to do. He’d never really had to comfort a crying person before.

“I’ll get you a blanket. You must be freezing. Did you want soup? I have soup. Only onion soup, but I didn’t have any onions so I used carrots instead, but I made it and it tastes good. I’ll fetch you a blanket, and a bowl of soup, and all you need to do is make yourself at home. Does that sound good?” Miria nodded. “Alrighty then! I’ll get on it! You just settle in!” Dimly he wondered how his family would like this, him bringing a stranger into their house, but he shrugged it off. Miria was nice. They’d have to see that. That she was a good person and deserved to be allowed to stay with them. He headed through to the kitchen, then a thought occurred to him. He stuck his head back around the door. “Hey, Miria? Do you like cocoa?”

Wordlessly she nodded, eyes full with tears of joy. Isaac darted back through to the kitchen and got to work.

 

-

 

They ate supper at the table, Miria staring at the polished silverware in awe. She was fascinated by everything, and so Isaac relayed a brief, abridged history of his family to her, adding bits in from various novellas to pad out the sections he was less sure of. There had to be truth in there somewhere, right? He was probably broadly speaking accurate, more or less. This is where his family would have told him to be quiet, stop lying, but Miria only listened in stunned silence, waiting until he had finished to say, “Wow, Isaac. You’re so smart.”

He glowed with pride. Nobody had ever called him smart before. In fact, he’d worn the dunce’s cap more times than any other boy in his class. The only subject he excelled in was English, however he had to be told to stay on topic, turning every essay into a rambling story of magical beasts or some such. And then he’d be caned for it. This never stopped him. He wasn’t able to change himself, nor did he see why it could be necessary. He didn’t understand why other people thought it was.

Miria thought he was smart.

That was something he’d never expected.

The look of wonder on her face was something else. She was hanging onto his every word, fascinated beyond belief. He told her stories he’d read in his father’s translations, tales from the East that he’d half-heard and only half-understood and they came out as an unintentional jumble he tried to string together and arrange them into a semi-coherent narrative (hard when you forgot the ending to one story and had to substitute something else instead) and Miria nodded and looked on in delight. She nursed her cocoa in her hands, sipping it occasionally and smiling. 

She ate three bowls of the soup and finished the rest of the bread. He wondered how hungry she’d been.

Outside it was getting dark and Isaac couldn’t throw her out. Not that it had ever been an option, nor would it have ever occurred to him if Miria herself hadn’t started toward the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She fidgeted shyly. “I thought...well, I’ve been enough trouble. I thought I should go now, I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Perish the thought!” Isaac replied immediately. “You can stay here. As I said, my family are away. Aline is a famous singer, she has various concerts to perform. They don’t get back for months. You can take her room. She won’t mind.” How could she? Miria needed somewhere to stay. This was only generous.

“A-are you sure?”

“Naturally! Never let it be said I am an ungenerous or rude host. You may stay here as long as you please.”

Miria relaxed. “Hey, Isaac?” 

“Yes, Miria?”

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

Isaac reddened profusely. “I’m really not.”

“I think you are,” Miria said softly, and at that moment Isaac didn’t think he could get any happier. 

So anyway, he showed her up to Aline’s room, which like everything in the house, rendered her speechless. She couldn’t believe the size of it, the softness of the mattress and the feather pillows, the sheen of the quilts, the gold-rimmed vanity desk, the elegant necklaces and earrings. When she opened the wardrobe her jaw dropped. The countless dresses Aline had left behind on their trip, the many, many absurd hats. Pulling a face, Isaac placed one of the sillier hats upon his own head and Miria collapsed into giggles.

“My turn!” she cried, grabbing a hatbox and sending them tumbling all over the floor. Instinctively she jumped, shrinking away from Isaac. “I’m sorry! Please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to-”

“Look, Miria,” he interrupted. “You made it rain hats! It’s a miracle!”

She perked up. “A miracle! It’s raining hats and dogs!”

“Now I think dogs is stretching it a little…”

They burst into laughter all over again. It was like finding part of himself he didn’t know he was missing. Someone who he clicked with intuitively, someone who understood him, even if he didn’t understand her yet. He knew she was scared. 

And he knew he could make her less scared.

He showed her where the bathroom was (Aline, of course, had an en suite) and fetched some towels so she could clean herself up. He also fetched some pyjamas and a dressing gown for her to change into after she finished. Then he left her to it, heading down the hallway to his room, leaving her a note to tell her where he had gone. Just so she didn’t feel alone and worry. It was a big house. He didn’t want her worrying or getting lost. He wanted her to feel at home. Tomorrow he’d give her a tour of everything, they’d have to go to the library for sure. Maybe he could read to her. He wondered if she’d like listening to him read. Did she like books? 

There, a plan for tomorrow. They’d go to the family library and read and it’d be wonderful. 

She’d enjoy it.

That was all he hoped for. 

_ That he could make her happy. _

 

-

 

It was getting toward midnight when Isaac heard the timid little knocking at his door and got up, opening it to see an anxious Miria standing outside, trembling.

“I- I had a bad dream,” she managed, and he stepped aside to let her in.

“It’s alright. I’m here. Next time you have a bad dream, imagine me there. I can fight away whatever it is. I’m here.”

Miria nodded. “You’re here,” she echoed. “Do you ever have nightmares?”

He shook his head. “Let me tell you why. Whenever I have nightmares, I picture something that can stop the monster. If I dream of a minotaur, I think of Theseus, if I dream of a vampire I think of Van Helsing, if I dream of Moriarty I make sure to think of Sherlock Holmes. Do you understand? If you’re dreaming of a dragon, you have to think of a dragon slayer. And if you need a dragon slayer, then I’m here.”

She nodded. “You’re so brave, Isaac. I don’t think I’d be able to slay a dragon, but I’m sure if there was one here right now, you’d be able to sock it right in the nose, with your mean right hook!” 

If there was a literal dragon here right now, he wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do, but Miria believed in him and believed he was her hero, which he was. So he nodded vigorously. “Exactly! Let me be your dragon slayer! Every princess needs one!”

She smiled now, seeming less scared. “Can I - can stay in here tonight? If it’s no trouble.”

“Certainly!” She moved to sit on the floor and he shook his head. “No, I insist, take the bed.”

“I wouldn’t want to-”

“I insist!”

“But I don’t want you to sleep on the floor…”

“This is truly a conundrum indeed,” Isaac mused, then jumped in the air abruptly. “I have it! Fetch pillows. We’ll build a great wall down the middle of the bed, like the great Chinese princess Hua Mulan did to keep out Genghis Khan. You take one side, I take the other. It’s the perfect solution.”

“Oh Isaac, you’re so smart,” Miria chirped, for the second time that evening. It didn’t stop feeling anything less than magical. They fetched more pillows and built the pillow-wall, each taking their half of the bed and curling up. 

Isaac’s mother had stressed that sharing a bed with someone of the opposite sex with whom you were not married was tantamount to the worst possible sin, and would lead to pregnancy, tragedy and death. He was sure she couldn’t object to his workaround, the pillow wall. That would prevent any such things occurring, for sure. He was 100% certain of it. No, 110%. Or more. She couldn’t object to this. Besides, Miria was frightened. She’d had a bad dream. Isaac was just doing the right thing and being a gentleman. Hadn’t he been raised to be a gentleman?

Being cruel to Miria would be more than just ungentlemanly, it would be wrong. He refused to do it. His family would understand, surely.

He fell asleep thinking about this, pressed next to a wall of pillows.

The next day Miria told him he snored, but she hadn’t wanted to wake him up. Not because she’d been nervous about it or anything.  
  
But because he looked too sweet while he was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all your comments, oh my godddd  
> I probably won't be updating quite this frequently in future, but I do have the next two chapters basically ready. After that, I'm going to try and get the rest done and post it relatively quickly. It shouldn't take long. Thank you.

She woke up in a feather bed, a wall of pillows running down the middle. There was some soft snoring coming from the other side. For a moment she froze, examining her surroundings in a panic before remembering what had happened. Oh. Right. She was here. Peeking around the pillows she saw the young man who’d rescued her - Isaac. His name was Isaac. 

His name was Isaac and he hadn’t even thought twice before intervening in something that anyone else would say wasn’t even his business.

“Excuse me good sir, you wouldn’t happen to have the time?” That was the first thing he’d said. Friendly and cheerful when no-one else would be. Miria knew immediately she didn’t want him hurt and prayed he’d just go away. For his own safety.

Her captor had looked up in confusion just in time for a pineapple to hit him in the face, spiky end first. He gave a howl of pain and Miria felt the stranger’s hand grab hers. Isaac (though of course, she didn’t know his name then) didn’t even have to tell her to run, she knew already that was her only hope at surviving. If she  _ wanted _ to survive. Did she? What kind of a life could she have if she did? She could have died otherwise, she knew that. Would have died. She  _ should  _ have died. Instead, here she was. The bed was so comfortable and she’d probably have slept for a hundred years or so, if Isaac’s snoring hadn’t woken her up. That was what she thought anyway. Isaac had said she was like a princess, and princesses slept for one hundred years at a time, everybody knew that. Except on the occasions they were woken up by true love’s kiss. Or snoring. 

She looked over at Isaac and considered waking him up, so she would have someone to talk to. He wasn’t the type of person who would get mad at being woken up, he’d probably be happy to regale her with more stories of dreams, and she could just listen to him talk. Not like…

An involuntary shudder ran down her spine. No. That was all over now. Isaac had saved her. She had Isaac now. Right?

She left him to sleep. He was particularly adorable like that.

Yeah, she really did like this Isaac guy a lot. He was nice.

Finally he stirred, rolling over and bumping into the pillow wall, then opening his eyes blearily. “I had the strangest dream, you know. I hit a fellow in the face with a pineapple and rescued this wonderful girl-” he cut off. “Miria! It wasn’t a dream?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded furiously. “You snore, Isaac. Did you know that?”

He frowned. “You should have elbowed me through the wall so I could stop. I hope it didn’t keep you awake.”

Again she shook her head. “Nope. You were cute when you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Isaac smiled awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure how to react to that at first, then leapt to his feet abruptly, filled with a sudden burst of energy. “Well then! We have lots of things to do today! Time to get going.”

“Time to get going,” Miria repeated, giggling. “Lots of things to do.” Then she stopped. What if Isaac thought she was making fun of him? When she used to repeat what  _ he _ said…

She needn’t have worried. Of course Isaac didn’t see it like that. “Yes Miria, exactly that! We’re going to the library today, I hope you like stories. There’s plenty of fairytales, I’m sure we’ll have a whale of a time.”

“The library…” her voice trembled. “Outside?”

He frowned. “Of course not. Why would we go to the library outside? Libraries outside are no good, you know, because when it rains all the books get wet, which is why we build libraries indoors, to protect the books from the elements. The library’s across from the billiards room.”

Her eyes widened. “You have your own library?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Isaac seemed genuinely confused by this. “But then, you could say the world is your library. People say the world is your oyster, and that makes even less sense. So saying the world is a library is sensible because the world is full of stories. Everyone has a library with them wherever they go, but hardly anyone has an oyster. I don’t much care for oysters anyway.”

“Oysters taste disgusting,” Miria agreed. “You’re right, Isaac. Libraries  _ are _ better.” How did Isaac know so much? It made sense that he had a library in his house, he was so, so clever. He knew so many interesting things. Of course he had a library. He probably read every day. 

“This way!” He whisked her off downstairs, forgetting about breakfast then apologising and dragging her through to the kitchen for porridge. With copious amounts of honey. That one breakfast probably used up a whole hive’s worth. Isaac, it seemed, had as much of a sweet tooth as Miria. Wasn’t it strange that she had so much in common with someone as incredible as Isaac when she was just...Miria? Little Miria Harvent, away with the fairies, no real skills beyond singing, daydreaming and looking pretty. She was so boring and Isaac lived in this big house and knew things and rescued her when he didn’t have to. He was like a hero in one of those stories, a handsome prince. And she was just Miria. But he seemed to see a princess when he looked at her so a princess she would be. She was scared he’d realise what a mistake he’d made and she’d be out (though she knew Isaac would never do anything half so cruel, Isaac didn’t have a mean bone in his body). So she had to be good enough. Good enough for Isaac.

Good enough to stay.

He looked alarmed when she offered to do the dishes and insisted she go upstairs and change instead: “Pick anything from Aline’s wardrobe. I’m sure everything in there would look lovely on you.”

“Everything?” she couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Do you mean all at once?”

He pulled a face. “That might get a little heavy. Aline owns  _ a lot _ of clothes. But yes. I’m sure it would still look amazing. Although on the other hand, it might make her mad. It did when I tried. Maybe just pick one outfit, she can’t get annoyed at you then. She doesn’t even need to know. And if she does find out, I’m sure she it’ll be too pretty for her to mind.”

“How sure, Isaac?”

“One hundred percent!” he replied, giving her a thumbs up.

“Wow, Isaac. One hundred percent sounds like a lot.” She wasn’t altogether sure, she hadn’t listened much during math when she  _ had _ attended school. But a hundred was a very big number anyway.

“It’s as sure as sure can be, Miria my dear,” Isaac said, smiling. “As sure as sure can be.”

And if Isaac was that sure, there was no way he could be wrong.

 

-

 

One thing was certain - Aline owned a lot of clothes, and trying them all on at once would take years. Her closet was enormous, a huge armoire that Miria could fit inside without any difficulty whatsoever. The door swung shut behind her, plunging her into claustrophobic darkness. A little gasp escaped and she tumbled out, physically shaking. Climbing into the wardrobe had not been a good idea after all. It brought back memories of being alone and afraid.

She didn’t like the dark.

Aline’s dresses were so luxurious: floor length evening gowns designed for royalty (in Miria’s mind at least), bedazzled flapper dresses that captivated, art deco outfits that were as confusing as they were stunning, material all over the place. In some the necklines were so sheer it was almost terrifying, but she eventually settled on an ankle-length blue dress that shimmered. It looked like the sea. Bright blue, shining, light on the water. There was some turquoise in there too. It would look good. She struggled her way into it, fiddling with the clasps and finally decided she was ready. She looked in the mirror and smiled. Aside from the missing clump of hair, she really did look like a princess. 

Searching through Aline’s vanity desk, she found a large jewelled hair grasp, which she could use to cover up the part that had been torn out. There was makeup too, to disguise the bruises and conceal the cut on her lip. She looked in the mirror and she looked like someone else.

A princess.

Like Isaac said.

She headed back down to the kitchen to find Isaac doing the washing up, while humming and essentially dancing around the kitchen.

On seeing her he dropped a bowl, then made like he did that on purpose. “Miria! See? You’re looking wonderful! Now. To the library we go!”

“To the library!”

 

-

 

Isaac’s library was spectacular. Miria had been to a regular library before, she’d hidden in there overnight once or twice when she hadn’t wanted to go home. Of course, she’d have it worse when she finally did go home, but she’d always felt at home among the books. She liked reading, really she did, even if she couldn’t always concentrate on the words and skipped ahead to read the end before she read the middle so it all got jumbled in her head. Books weren’t really prized at home. She certainly couldn’t imagine having a library indoors, or that man allowing it. He thought books were a waste of time one could ignore and spend the time cleaning or cooking instead, and Miria wasn’t much of a cook. She was too flighty for it. The only use for books back home would have been to burn in winter. While Isaac, being incredibly, incredibly rich, had his own indoor library.

It wasn’t as big as the regular library in town but it was still something else. She couldn’t contain her gasp of excitement when she saw the rows and rows, shelves and shelves of books. 

“You own all these?” she asked, spellbound.

Isaac reddened. “Well, actually my family does, but I being a part of my family technically own them, yes. Most of them are my father’s. He’s a professor on the East.”

“Like, the East Coast?” 

“No no, the Far East. Further East than the coast and the ocean and even further East than Africa and Europe. East as in China, Japan. Did you know that China invented fireworks, Miria?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t! They must have the best Fourth of July celebrations.”

Isaac shook his head in reply. “Now Miria, that’s only an American thing. They don’t celebrate it over there. See, the Fourth of July is special here because it marks when George Washington personally drove the British into the sea and they had to swim back across the Atlantic. But China and Japan don’t border the Atlantic so they couldn’t drive the British there anyway, even if they wanted. So they have to celebrate other things instead.”

“What kind of celebrations?” she asked immediately and then regretted it. “I’m sorry Isaac, I’m asking too many questions.”

“Nonsense, Miria!” Isaac replied cheerfully “If you don’t ask questions, you’ll never know all the answers that are to be known.” 

“I’m not...annoying you?” she ventured, cautiously. Most people didn’t like too many questions. They thought she was stupid, or making fun of them. But Isaac didn’t mind. He was content to answer her questions all day.

Isaac looked wounded, as if he were personally affronted on her behalf. “Never! You could never, Miria.” He smiled. “I like having you around. Anyway, in answer to your question, the kinds of things they celebrate…” He frowned, concentrating intently. “They have a festival to celebrate animals racing across a river, which was a monumental historic event because it invented the first calendar. Each year is named after each animal. They call this festival Chinese New Year, because it’s like New Year, but Chinese. Depending on which animal year you were born in, they give you prophecies, like star signs.”

“Oh! Like horoscopes!” Miria clapped her hands together in excitement. “I get it, Isaac!” He looked as excited by this as she did. “Hey, Isaac? I have something to tell you.”

“What’s that, Miria?”

She smiled. “I like having you around too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happiness only this chapter  
> w a glimmer of sads  
> but primarily happiness

They spent the rest of the day in the library, Isaac proudly showing off the family collection to his guest. By the end of the day, they’d wound up ransacking the shelves, the majority of the books ending up on the floor for them to pour over. He couldn’t get over Miria’s smile, the clearness- no, the _clarity_ of her laugh, like a bell, and not one of the big clock tower bells that boomed the time at all hours. Like the little bells on the harness’ of ponies that tinkled softly. Miria’s laugh was beautiful like that. She already seemed so different from the waif-like creature he’d brought in. She hadn’t changed all that much except she seemed alive now. Not lingering in a state of just existence. Properly alive, and how alive she was! There she went, twirling around the library, Aline’s skirts billowing out around her like waves on the sea…

She tripped on a particularly hefty atlas and stumbling backwards, teetering precariously. Without thinking, Isaac reached out and grabbed her, one hand around her waist, like in those dance moves in the dances he wasn’t allowed to do for ‘reasons of decency’.

They froze, just hovering there. Isaac could feel his cheeks colouring. Miria looked so taken aback, he wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t drop her. The moment seemed to hold, trapped as it was for unbearably long until suddenly, Miria pushed him away and ran, trampling over books uncaring what happened. And he couldn’t think what to say, until she was gone from the room when the words finally made it out.

“Miria, wait!” He ran after her. All he could think was that in her panic she might leave. She might be gone. It might be over. Whatever ‘it’ was. He was gaining on her. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She turned to look at him and her eyes were wet with tears. “Y-you mean it?”

He nodded. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

At that she burst into sobs again, like last night. Again, Isaac wasn’t sure what to do. She’d run away from physical contact earlier, so a hug was off the table. Her shoulders were shaking and floods of tears running down her cheeks. Isaac reached for his handkerchief and passed it to her, for her to blow her nose.

“I don’t want you to die, Isaac,” she managed eventually. “You’re the only person who’s ever been this nice to me. I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I got scared for no reason, you must think I’m such a- a- you must think-”

Isaac gave her a reassuring smile and offered her his arm. She leaned into the embrace. “Miria, I don’t know who it was that hurt you. But they won’t get you ever again. I’ve got you now, and I’ll look after you. Don’t be sad about being sad. You have me now, and I have you. We’re not alone anymore.”

Miria sniffled into his handkerchief and didn’t look up. “Th-thank you Isaac. You’re the best.”

“No, that’s you,” Isaac replied. “Are you hungry? I think we have some pasta, we can make dinner together. You do the pasta, I’ll make the sauce. Unless you prefer it to be the other way around?”

Miria nodded. “You do the pasta, _I’ll_ make the sauce.”

“Done!” Isaac replied, wiping away a stray tear from Miria’s cheek. “There we go.”

“Do I still look like a princess?” she asked nervously.

He nodded. “All the princesses have some tragedy in their lives. Poison apples, hundred-year sleeps, inconvenient footwear. I’m sure they all had to cry sometimes. Regardless, you’re always a princess to me. Princess Miria.”

“Princess Miria,” Miria tittered, perking up. Isaac relaxed. He didn’t like Miria being sad. “And Prince Isaac?”

At that he nodded. “Yes. And Prince Isaac.”

He felt her hand interlock itself with his. He squeezed it reassuringly. To tell her he was there, and he always would be. Whatever evil came for her. Even if he couldn’t really fight it off with a mean right hook, for Miria he’d have to try.

 

-

 

After dinner they talked until it got dark. Miria had so many questions for him that he had no idea how to answer so he sort of made bits up, if not everything, but she seemed satisfied by everything. Satisfied, if not delighted, hanging on every word and repeating parts of particular interest. She did that a lot, he’d noticed, and it was one of the most endearing things about her. Not that everything about her wasn’t the most endearing thing.

Soon it was midnight, the witching hour, as he informed Miria. “This is the hour when witches work, Miria.”

“So what do they do for the rest of the day, Isaac?”

“Well…” He’d never thought about this before. Miria always asked the right questions, the questions he’d never have been smart enough to think about. “I suppose they probably have day jobs. When they’re not doing witch things.”

“I always thought a witch was something you were all the time!” Miria gasped.

“Well, yes it is too, but when they’re not doing witching things they do other things too. They save the witching for right now, when the magic’s at its strongest.”

“Ohhh, I get it! You’re saying they’re witches all day long, but they only do witching things at midnight, right?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Isaac grinned proudly. “Say, Miria?”

“Yes Isaac?”

“How do you fancy living here long term? No worries or anything.”

“No worries?” Miria’s face lit up with one of those incredible smiles. “Yes please, Isaac!”

“Perfect. We ought to get some sleep now,” he suggested and she looked frightened. “Are you afraid of having nightmares again?”

“I always have nightmares,” she admitted. “But I don’t think I will if I’m with you.”

“My room it is, then!” he declared, standing up and punching the air, and he was delighted when Miria copied both his words and actions to the letter.

 

-

 

Days settled into a kind of pattern now. They would breakfast together in the mornings, and spend the day running around the house discovering new things. Sometimes playing hide-and-seek, a game Miria was the best at, despite it being unknown territory and Isaac knowing the best hiding spots already. Sometimes they found out Aline’s phonograph and listened to some of her record collection on it, and they would dance to it, Miria getting more and more comfortable around Isaac. Sometimes they tore down the Great Pillow Wall of Bed and had a huge pillow fight with it. They would cook meals together, and do the chores and tidying, and then crash in the library with cocoa to tell stories. Sometimes Miria would tell stories, faltering at first but more confident, her ability to mimic voices coming in handy. They started to read stories together, Isaac reading the narration and Miria giving the characters voices. And they’d switch that up too, sometimes each playing one character. Sometimes making up the stories as they went along.

Always being happy.

Mostly.

Miria was still prone to sudden moments of sadness, but more and more she’d come to Isaac and he’d think of something fun for them to do to distract her.

“Hey, Isaac?” she asked one day.

“Yes, Miria?”

“I have a question.”

“What’s that, Miria?” Already this was a rhythm they had, he didn’t even have to consciously think about what he was saying. He just found it already said.

“Where _are_ your family? You talk about them a lot, and I’m wearing your sister’s dress right now. You said that went on tour, right? Why didn’t they take you with them?” She shifted awkwardly, shying away all of a sudden. “I’m sorry. I’m asking personal questions, I shouldn’t intrude, I shouldn’t-”

“It’s alright, Miria,” he replied. “The truth is...I’m not entirely sure my family like me all that much.”

“What do you mean by that, Isaac?” She tilted her head, confused.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know and I’ve never known why. But they just don’t.”

“I don’t know how someone could not like you, Isaac,” Miria said.

He glowed with pride. “It’s a veritable mystery to be sure. Anyway, I think they think I’d be an embarrassment on the Europe tour. And as for the servants, well...we don’t actually have all that many. I don’t think we can afford to anymore, but they won’t tell me. They don’t tell me much. They’re putting everything into Aline’s tour. And they left me behind.” He perked up. “ But I’m glad they did. Because I got to meet you!”

“I’m glad you did too,” Miria agreed. “Because I got to meet _you_. I’m grateful to you for everything. Especially my life. You saved my life, Isaac. You’re incredible!”

“That’s what princes do for princesses, Miria,” he replied, more bravely than he felt. “Though sometimes it’s the other way around. I think princes need rescuing sometimes too. They're nothing without their princess."

“And they all live happily ever after!” she sang.

“Yes! They do!”  
  
And right then in that moment, both of them believed it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter, but plot happens  
> final chapter is still in progress, but on hold while I work on banditry. then I'll finish this, and then detective au

A little while went by before Isaac had to go out for groceries. He promised to be back soon, kissing Miria’s hand like a gentleman before he left. 

“Don’t worry! You’ll hardly notice I was gone!” he said, reassuringly.

Miria shook her head. “I’ll notice. Be careful, Isaac.”

“I promise you, Miria my dear, I’ll be as careful as can be. I’ll be the most careful person to walk the earth. I’ll be supremely careful. Was there anything you wanted me to get for you?”

Again she shook her head. “Nothing especially, Isaac. Though maybe something sweet? Like...like cake, or candy...or ice-cream!”

“Cake, candy, and ice-cream!” He put a tall hat on and tipped it. Miria wasn’t sure how he managed to keep it balanced on his head. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll see you later, then. And we’ll have the feast of our lives!”

Miria giggled. “The feast of our lives! See you later, Isaac!”

He waved cheerfully and was gone out of the door, leaving Miria alone for the first time in days. She’d been around Isaac almost constantly, with only occasional short breaks, they’d been in one another’s company most of the past few days. Being alone made the house feel very empty and quiet. Isaac must have been lonely without her, on his own in this huge place. She wondered how he’d passed the time. 

Well, for starters, that banister looked perfect for sliding down. So shiny and smooth, curling around and down the stairs. That was something Miria resolved to try out. And she supposed she could tidy up the drawing room after their midnight feast last night. Someone had to. So she set the pillows back on the sofas and brushed the crumbs under the rug out of sight. Plates went back through into the kitchen, and she shoved all the blankets in a corner so they were at hand when they next wanted to build a blanket fort. Stepping back, she examined her handiwork and was satisfied that any mess had been successfully shoved where nobody would pay attention to it.

Now she could go test the banister out. As she was heading upstairs, skipping steps two at a time in her excitement, she heard a knock at the door. 

Isaac was home! 

She slid down the remainder of the banister and rushed to the door, unlocking it without thought. Isaac must have lost his key. It hadn’t taken him long to find everything he wanted. She couldn’t wait for the promised feast.

Flinging the door open, she realised only too late that it wasn’t Isaac.

“Y-you!” She took a step back inside, trembling all over.

He smiled at her, but his smile wasn’t reassuring like Isaac’s, it didn’t make her smile too. His smile frightened her. “Who didja think it’d be, little bird?” He stepped past her into the house. “Your boyfriend? That softhead lad who whisked ya off?” He tutted. “Betya’ve been lifting your skirts for him, ain’tcha? You make your big brother’s heart bleed, you do. Gallivanting off with all sorts. Not right. I can’t stand by and watch my little sister fall into ruin, can I, become some kept pet?” She didn't understand what he was saying. The words didn't make any sense. She didn't get what he was saying. He reached out and adjusted her hair and she cringed away. Immediately his face became thunder. “Hey! It’s a man’s right to worry about his family. No sister of mine’s whoring herself out, you hear? So I came by to clear up that whole misunderstanding earlier. Where’s your Romeo gone?”

“His- his name’s Isaac,” she managed. “And it’s not like that.”

“Bullshit it ain’t!” her brother roared. “You’ve always had airs and graces, missy, thinking you’re too good for us. And now this. If you weren’t so goddamn useless I’d have had you married already, airheaded little bitch.” He looked around the hallway and whistled. “Nice place. Got yourself a good set-up here.”

“I-I-Isaac’ll be home soon,” she stuttered. “He’ll sh-show you. He’ll- he’ll sock you with his m-m-mean right hook.” The phrase shone in her mind like a jewel, equally precious and important to her. Isaac had said he’d protect her. Isaac  _ would _ protect her.

Her brother snorted. “Is that what he told you?” His hand went to his pocket now and there was a  _ schink _ sound that meant one thing, it meant a  _ knife _ . A shiny little knife in his hand. “I think I might have to have words with this Isaac fella, if you follow me.” Miria blanched. “See how well his ‘mean right hook’ works once I’ve cut him a new mouth right across his throat.”

“No!” She wanted more than anything to hit him, but her fear was too great. “You can’t! Please don’t hurt Isaac!”

He put the knife away, grinning wickedly. “I won’t, little bird, not if you’re a good girl.”

“Don’t call me that anymore,” she pleaded.

He frowned, his expression darkening again. “I’ve called you that since you were a tiny squalling thing that screamed my ears out. Look, just ‘cause we’ve been having some rough times, since Ma and Pa died and I know I’ve been a bit on the out but that can change. Come along home and we can talk about it.”

“If Isaac hadn’t come along, you were going to kill me,” Miria said, more bravely than she felt.

Her brother went silent. “Little bird, you going to come home, or am I going to have to go ugly up your loverboy? Have a brotherly chat with him?”

Miria shook her head. “You can’t hurt Isaac.”

“Aw. You’re real sweet on him, ain’tcha? Tell ya what, I think we can make a deal. This place, like I said, verrrrry fancy. Just agree to do me this one favour, and I think I’ll let you stay here with your precious Isaac. Hell, might be nice to have some money in the family, right?” He laughed loudly and cupped Miria’s chin in one of his big, calloused hands. She winced. “Hey, it’s alright little bird. It’ll be alright. You’re gonna be just fine, if you do what your big brother says.”

“What do you n-need me to do?” she asked quietly.

“Good girl,” he said, smiling affectionately. “Just hear me out, alright. I’ve got a plan.” 

He told her.

It made her stomach turn, and her knees tremble hideously and everything felt wobbly and bad. She wanted to shake her head but the knife in his pocket made her nod through the tears.

“Good girl,” he said again. “I’m sorry, little bird. Really I am.” He patted her head and again she flinched. “Seeya.” He strolled out of the door casually as he’d walked in, leaving it ajar and her a quivering wreck in the hallway.

Clamping a hand over her own mouth, she collapsed into tears.

 

-

 

Isaac came home.

Upon noticing the door open, he burst in and there he was, back. He looked worried. “Miria! Are you alright? The door was open and-” He saw her and stopped, his face falling. “What happened, Miria?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I...I should leave. I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting you in danger being here. I should leave.” She made a beeline for the door and Isaac blocked her. There was a look of unbearable hurt on her face. “Isaac-”

“What happened? I can protect you-”

“No you can’t!” She’d managed to stop sobbing, but on that note she started again. “I’m not-” she hiccuped. “Not worth putting you in danger over.”

“Yes you are,” Isaac replied, blinking in confusion. “You’re worth the world, Miria. You’re worth so much. Please don’t leave me.” She hiccuped again, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Come on. You’ve got the hiccups. I know how to cure hiccups, you know? You need to hang from your feet over the bannister while drinking a glass of water - backwards.”

Despite herself she couldn’t help smiling. “How can you do that backwards?” 

Isaac shrugged. “Ah, Miria, that’s one of the mysteries of life. We can find out.”

“Together?”

He squeezed her hand. “Together.”

And she felt so, so guilty for what she was going to do.

 

-

 

That night she tiptoed out of bed, trying her very best not to wake Isaac. She’d kept quiet for the rest of the evening, barely touching the Ultimate Feast and Isaac had noticed but he hadn’t pressed her on it, just continued telling stories like always. 

He’d been too good to her. Because Isaac always was. 

Now he was asleep, and snoring lightly, and she couldn’t wake him up.

“What are you doing?” 

Too late.

“Go back to sleep, Isaac.”

He sat up, peering over the Great Pillow Wall of Bed. “Where are you going, Miria? You aren’t...leaving, are you?” His voice shook a little. It scared her.

“No. There’s something I need to do. It’s important. Isaac, if I don’t do it, he said he’d hurt you.”

“Who did? Was it that man-”

“Isaac. Please go back to sleep.  _ Please. _ ”

He stood up, crossing the room to stand next to her. “Miria. If he’s going to hurt you, I can’t let him. You’re important to me.”

“ _ You’re _ important to  _ me _ ,” she replied. “That’s why you have to let me go open the door. Hide somewhere. You know all the good hiding places, Isaac. Once he’s robbed the house, he’ll go. He said he’d go.”

“Okay.” Isaac nodded. “But if you need me, just yell. I’ll hear you, wherever I’m hiding. And I’ll come help.”

She nodded. “You’ll hear me. And you’ll come help.”

He nodded in confirmation and they went from there, Isaac finding himself a closet to hide in downstairs, and Miria heading to the door, unlocking it. Three men entered, in addition to her brother. She only recognised one of them aside from him, a friend of his who he occasionally owed money to and who occasionally owed money to him. They ignored her, her brother gave her a smile and ruffled her hair roughly. She managed not to cry out in pain as he touched the patch he’d ripped out. She knew if she had, Isaac would have come bursting out, fists raised, and he couldn’t fight all four of these men, who were armed with crowbars and wrenches. Isaac was armed with nothing but his own bravery. 

Isaac was very brave, but judging by the smell, her brother was very drunk. He got nasty when he was drunk. That was when he did things he said he regretted later. They were things he’d do again though, so how much he regretted them was debatable. 

“You did good, little bird. Now where’s this Isaac? He can show us where the valuable stuff is, can’t he?”

Miria blinked dumbly. “N-no. You don’t need Isaac. I’m here for that. I can show you-”

He slapped her across the face. “Shut up, now! You do what I tell you. Where’s Isaac?” He looked around. “Isaaaaaaac~! Come out, come out, wherever you arrrrrre.” He grabbed Miria’s arm, wrenching her forward and digging his nails in. She gave a small squeak of pain. “I’m hurting her, Isaaaaac.” 

“No, he’ll-”

Too late. The closet door opened and Isaac emerged, wielding the hat stand as a weapon. He rammed it into her brother’s chest as hard as he could, knocking him over. Then he flung it at the other guys and grabbed Miria’s hand in the confusion. He didn’t need to tell her to run. They bolted up the stairs, the intruders in close pursuit behind them. 

The two of them exchanged a look and headed for Aline’s room.

Aline had that monstrous wardrobe they could manoeuvre together to block the door, barricading them in. Aline’s room had a window and an escape route down the side of the house, if you tied her numerous dresses together and attached them to her bed as an anchor, before using it to make their way to the ground safely. From there, they ran. 

“We should go to the police,” Isaac said, breathing heavily. 

Miria could only nod in response. 

So they did.

 

-

 

“Oh. It’s you. Isaac Dian.” The officer on duty didn’t look up from his work. “So, get attacked by any swordsmen recently? Duel any monsters?”

He shook his head. “Some men broke into my house. They forced this girl, Miria, to help them.”

“Did they now?” the officer asked dubiously. 

Isaac nodded urgently and Miria mimicked the gesture, at pretty much the exact same time Isaac did. 

“This isn’t one of your tall tales?” The officer raised a suspicious eyebrows.

Isaac shook his head. Miria copied. 

“Alright. We’ll send some men over. You two can wait here. Make an official statement.”

Miria realised she was shaking again and Isaac put his arm over her, pulling her close. “It’s okay, Miria. I’ve got you. I’ll be a dragonslayer for you. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” she murmured, head resting on his shoulder, and promptly fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is it, done with this fic at last and wow  
> thank you so much to everyone who commented, I kinda forgot to post this bc caught up w Banditry and because ao3 mysteriously got blocked on my internet. which was weird as fuck. but it's resolved now so here we go. the end.

It was okay. Isaac kept reminding himself of this. He’d done it, he’d got them out, a daring escape. Miria was safe and sleeping contentedly on his shoulder. It was all okay now. Right? They were 

Safe. He’d managed to protect her, like he’d promised. 

The police arrived back, having found the house empty, no sign of the intruders, but obviously ransacked. They offered the pair of them a ride home - well, they offered it to Isaac at least, Miria was still fast asleep. They also offered a guard, in case their attackers came back, only a couple of detectives that they could spare but that would probably be enough. Isaac touched Miria’s shoulder, nudging her awake.

She blinked at him through bleary eyes. “Isaac?”

“It’s alright, Miria.” He didn’t mention they hadn’t apprehended those men. “The police are going to protect us. It’ll be okay.”

She frowned. “Isaac, that man-”

“Doesn’t matter,” he finished. “You don’t have to talk about him, if it’ll make you sad. It’s no good feeling sad, Miria. I like seeing you smile.”

Miria sighed. “But Isaac...I want you to know. You’re my best friend, so I want to tell you. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

He smiled proudly and let her squeeze his hand. “Go ahead. If you’re certain.”

“I’m certain, Isaac. One hundred percent.” She swallowed. “He’s my brother. Harvey. We’re family. After our parents died, he looked after me.”

Isaac frowned. “Well, he wasn’t doing a very good job of looking after you. When I met you, he had a knife to your throat! Now, I don’t know much about how normal families interact, because mine’s not normal at all, but I’m fairly certain that isn’t. Normal.”

“I know, I know. He didn’t used to be so bad when we were younger. He used to make me paper butterflies. He called me little bird.” She shuffled her feet, not meeting his eye. “Things only got bad when he got older and then he started to get mad at me if I didn’t do what he said. He said it was my fault for being stupid.”

By nature, Isaac was not an angry person, but he saw red. “You’re not stupid!” He stood up, gesticulating wildly. “You’re incredible! Miria, you really are the most wonderful person I know! Your brother’s the stupid one if he can’t see that, and an awful awful man because he hurt you and-” He cut off. Miria’s eyes were wide with fear and she was shrinking away. He’d scared her. He stopped, and sat back down next to her, offering her a smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just...I can’t bear the thought of him hurting you. It makes me so furiously angry and angrily furious I want to travel back in time and clock him around the head with the hatstand all the harder.”

“Clock him around the head,” Miria repeated, awestruck. “You’re amazing, Isaac. I don’t know if I’d ever be brave enough to do that.”

“I’m sure you would be. I’m only brave enough, you know, because of you?”

“Really Isaac?” He nodded. She looked so excited. “So anyone can be brave?”

“If they have someone to be brave for, anyone can do anything.” 

The police detective nearby coughed. “So were you planning on taking us up on that ride anytime soon or…?”

They headed to the car.

“Hey Isaac?” Miria began. “I’ve never been in a car before. What’s it like?”

Isaac smiled. “I guess you’re going to find out. It’s great fun, I promise.”

“Okay Isaac! I believe you!” 

The police detective in the front shook his head. “Up on cloud nine, you are. Wish I could be so carefree, I tell you. Some of us got rent to pay. Either of you know what rent is?”

“What’s cloud nine, Isaac?” Miria asked instead, confused.

“Oh, that’s very simple. There are nine types of cloud that exist. When you’re up on cloud nine that means you’re probably going to fall a very long way and hit the ground.”

“Aah, Isaac! That’s scary! If you fall off a cloud and hit the ground, that might hurt!”

“It might,” Isaac agreed. “If you aren’t careful.”

“So you have to be very careful when you’re on cloud nine? So you don’t fall?”

“Exactly, Miria. You have to be very careful indeed.”

The other police detective sighed. “It’s hopeless. Hit the gas already.”

His colleague complied. Meanwhile, Miria was staring out of the window in excitement the whole way, watching the world go by.

Isaac would normally have been trying to lean as far out the window as he could, but this was probably a bad idea at the best of times, especially now. He paid little attention to the city streets as they passed. 

Instead, he watched Miria. She was smiling again.

And that was beautiful.

 

-

 

When they got home, Isaac saw a familiar car waiting outside. Painfully familiar. It was the family car, and there were Doris, Aline’s maid, and Mr Choi the butler, getting luggage out. Another car was parked next to it and that was Isaac’s father’s special car, nobody else was allowed to drive it. Once Isaac had stolen it to drive around town and he’d received the hiding of his life when he’d returned with the paintwork ever-so-slightly scuffed. There were police outside, and down the street, and Isaac could see his mother arguing with one detective and demanding he let her past.

“Do you understand? I barely slept at all on board ship, I had the most frightful headache. Now you’re telling me there’s been some kind of a break-in and I’m not understanding a word you’re saying. Tell the man how time zones work, Francis,  _ please _ .”

Isaac’s father dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. “Was anything of value stolen? In my line of work, many valuable artifacts come through my hands for verification. If anything’s been taken-”

“Francis, that wasn’t what I asked. I asked for an explanation of time zones, not you worrying - selfishly, need I add, as always - about your career, when something far worse might have been stolen and our family’s privacy intruded upon.”

His father sighed. “Time zones occur due to the size of the Earth and its rotation, so that for parts of the world it is day while in other parts it is night. Due to our travels around Europe we have been living according to European time and attempting to readjust on our journey back. However it has been a long journey and my wife is, understandably, tired, so if we could be permitted inside to rest-”

“Permitted? Do they have to permit us into our own house now? Step aside, detective. We’re the owners of this property.”

“And the property within the property that may have been stolen,” added his father.

“I think you’re all conveniently forgetting about Isaac,” Aline remarked sarcastically.

“Yes, yes, we’ll get to him.  _ When  _ they let me in the house.” His mother waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Aline sighed, inspecting her impeccable long, red nails and shrugged hopelessly. “Honestly, Mother, you wouldn’t care if he’d been stabbed to death in the drawing room, beyond complaining about having to replace the carpets and asking why he couldn’t have died somewhere more convenient. Isn’t that so?”

“Aline! Save your voice! You must be tired out from all the concerts. It’s putting a strain upon your nerves. Where is that hopeless brother of yours anyway?” She tutted. “Couldn’t he have done a better job of keeping the house secure.”

“Well, Mother, I’m not an expert in crime or anything, but I believe when you leave someone alone criminals are naturally more likely to target said house. Not that I’d know anything about that.” Aline shrugged dramatically. “Anyway, he’s over there.” She pointed at Isaac as he sheepishly emerged from the police car, followed by a nervous Miria hiding behind him. “Hello, Isaac. The Europe tour was a disaster and my pianist ran away with his lover ten minutes before a show in Berlin so we had to find a substitute in time and rehearse and he didn't speak a word of English and was offkey the whole time and honestly I shall never sing again.” Aline had vowed never to sing again on a number of occasions. Each time, it seemed like she was more serious. She looked very serious.

“Aline!” Their mother was, of course, scandalised by the suggestion that their shining star might fall. She sniffed and looked over at Isaac. “Isaac. Who’s the scrawny little ragamuffin clutching on your tailcoats?” 

“This is Miria,” Isaac replied, cheerfully. They’d love Miria. They had to love her. “Miria, this is my family.”

Miria peeked out from behind him shyly and waved. 

“Is she wearing my dress?” Aline asked stiffly. 

“Is that Aline?” Miria whispered. “She looks so beautiful!”

“Can hear you sweetheart. Thanks anyway. Isaac, why is there a girl wearing my dress? Not that it doesn’t look cute and all but…”

His father stepped forward. “Isaac, have you been getting up to anything improper?”

He shook his head. “No, of course not! Miria was in trouble and I saved her. She needed my help so I brought her home to keep her safe.”

“You brought a stranger into our house?” His mother sniffed again. “ _ I _ wouldn’t be surprised if she’d had something to do with the robbery. You should be questioning her, detectives. Actually doing your jobs, rather than refusing to let decent upstanding citizens into their own home.” 

Miria quaked under that imperious gaze. “Isaac! She’s scary! Who is she? Is she a witch who isn’t witching because it’s not the witching hour?”

“That’s my mother,” Isaac admitted.

“Wow! Your mother! She doesn’t look a bit like you, Isaac. Her face is all bony and pointy!” Isaac’s mother narrowed her eyes and coughed. “Sorry Mrs Isaac’s Mother. I’m pleased to meet you! Isaac’s my best friend. He saved my life.”

“Please,” his mother laughed scornfully. “Isaac couldn’t save a kitten stuck up a tree. He couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag, let alone save anyone’s life.” 

Isaac wilted. Being around Miria had made him feel so good he’d almost forgotten what feeling this bad felt like, until his mother started speaking and then the happiness ebbed away, little by little. He felt Miria’s hand grip his tight, her reassuring presence  _ there _ as he was for her. And he felt better.

“That can’t be right,” Miria sounded dubious. “Isaac’s incredible.”

His mother scoffed. “Well, you’ve got this one wrapped around your little finger. When’s the wedding?” She eyed them coldly. “That was a joke, by the way,” she added quickly. “Since you don’t seem to have a grasp on humour. Either of you. Isaac…” She sighed, and he knew she was prepping herself for something big. “I didn’t think I’d have to tell you again about bringing riff-raff in off the street but apparently that’s a conversation we need to have. Are we sure she wasn’t in on the robbery?”

Isaac shook his head. “She was, but she didn’t want to be-”

Snapping her fingers, his mother whistled at the cops. “You heard him. She’s suspect. Question her. You can hold her in the- the drawing room. Well?” She clapped her hands together. “Get to it. Or do I need to speak to your superiors?” 

The police exchanged hopeless looks and moved towards them. Isaac put himself between them and Miria. 

“You can’t take her. Listen to me, she’s innocent.”

“Oh, she looks it. Those big eyes, like butter-wouldn’t-melt. I wouldn’t trust her.”

“Isaac, what’s going on?” Miria asked, clutching his arm desperately. “I’m scared.”

“Good little actress, isn’t she? I can’t blame you for falling for her. Probably the whole thing was a ruse from the start, since there’s no way  _ you _ could save anyone to begin with,” his mother said darkly.

Isaac shook his head. He knew Miria was genuine. Miria was real, and he knew it. And he could prove it if they’d listen to him. Miria wasn’t- she  _ wouldn’t _ . She’d needed his help and he’d helped her and now they were making it sound like she was a villain all along. She  _ wasn’t _ . Didn’t they see? Didn’t they listen to what had happened?

The two detectives waiting in the car emerged, coming up behind them and taking Miria by the arms. 

“Isaac!” she cried, wriggling in their grip. “Help me.”

“Not now, Isaac. This way.” His mother was steering him inside the house and there was nothing he could do but watch them escorting Miria only a few feet away, heading for the drawing room to question her. He looked at her, feeling helpless and hopeless and lacking in any skills a dragonslayer might need if he were going to protect a princess. She met his eyes, tears welling up.

“Isaac!” she called out again. Then the door shut and she was out of sight. And everything had gone wrong. They might arrest Miria! He might never see her again. He had to explain…

The moment he opened his mouth to speak, his father cut him off. 

“If your liaison with this girl jeopardises my career, there will be trouble.”

“Never mind your career!” interrupted his wife “What about Aline’s nerves? The shock could have an ill effect on her health and you know how highly strung she is. Aline, dear? Are you feeling alright?” 

Aline shook her head. “I-I’m feeling faint. Isaac, can you escort me up to my room?”

“Now now, that’s what we pay Doris for-”

“I’d prefer if it was Isaac,” Aline snapped. “I have so missed him while we’ve been in Europe.” She looped an arm around Isaac’s. “Come along, brother dearest. I can lecture him about the error of his ways and the inherent wickedness of mankind, womankind, animalkind, et cetera. Drum some sense into him, isn’t that right, Mother?”

Reluctantly their mother nodded and Aline gave a lazy, predatory smile as she leaned on Isaac and followed him out of the room. As soon as they were out of sight, the fainting act vanished and she stood up straight, fishing under some assorted junk and producing a key. “This key opens a door that connects the closet there to the drawing room. Do with it what you will. Don’t ask why, either. You ask too many questions. You know Mother will paint it like this girl’s the problem and that doesn’t seem to be the case. I don’t care either way. You seem happy with her. Are you?” He nodded wordlessly. “Good. I can distract the police. You get out with-” She frowned. “Whatever her name is.”

“Miria."

“Maria?”

“No, Miria.”

"Miriam?"

" _Miria_."

“That’s a weird name. But then, I can hardly talk.” Aline flicked her hair. “Well, Isaac? You want to get this show on the road?” She opened the closet. “Get moving. Time’s a-wasting.” 

“Thank you, Aline. Really and truly.”

“Yes, whatever,” Aline humphed. “Shut up already.” He did. She closed the closet. Isaac moved backwards, toward the door they weren’t supposed to know existed, let alone  _ use _ . If he’d known where the key was, it would have featured in hide-and-seek, but he was never allowed a key. On account of not being trusted to behave like a sensible adult. Aline had given him the key. She was helping.

He found the keyhole and peered through it. Miria was seated on a chair, fiddling with her dress and stammering out answers to questions. She was scared. Alone. He had to protect her. That was his job.

An ear-splitting shriek. “Robbers! Thieves! Rapists!” Aline was hamming it up for all she was worth. “Help! Police!” The police watching Miria headed straight for the door, leaving Miria unguarded. Isaac opened the secret door and ran straight in, unhindered. 

“Isaac!” Miria was overcome with delight, as he’d known she would be. “I knew you’d come for me!”

“Of course, Miria! Anything for you. This way.” He took her hand, heading for the other exit to the drawing room, which led into another hallway which led to the garden. By the time they were in the garden, police whistles could be heard. The deception had been discovered. But they were running already, running so fast nobody could keep up with them, not even the fastest man alive, not even the fastest land animal, nobody and nothing. 

Over the fence.

And then off.

To freedom.

 

-

 

_ “Hey, Isaac? I have a question.” _

_ “What’s that, Miria?” _

_ “What do we do now?” _

_ … _

_ “Well, we need money. I’m sure if we go back and borrow some from home, they won’t mind.” _

_ “But isn’t borrowing without permission stealing? And isn’t that bad?” _

_ “We need to get out of town so you’ll be safe. So your brother can’t find us and so the police can’t either. To do that, we need money. Borrowing without permission’s alright if you  _ **_really_ ** _ need it. And it’s my family. Some of the money is mine to begin with so I can go and get ” _

_ “It is?” _

_ “Yeah. It is.” _

_ “Oh wow! You’re so smart, Isaac! What then?” _

_ “We grab the first train out of here, that’s what. We live wild like they do in books, scraping by on our wits. Just you wait, Miria. We’ll be an unstoppable duo! They’ll write songs about us for Aline to sing. It’ll be wonderful.” _

_ “That’s incredible! Songs about us! We’re already an unstoppable duo, who knows what amazing things we can do next?”  
_

_ “Who knows indeed? Let’s find out, Miria.” _

__ “Together?”  
  
__ “Together.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again thanks.  
> did I name Miria's brother 'Harvey Harvent'? Yes I did. Because my life is a shambles that's why.  
> this was so fun to write and I loved it. these children are too good.

**Author's Note:**

> sue me for this pls I deserve jail time for this  
> i LOVE writing these nerds and I despise hurting them because it hurts me a lot. right in the heart.  
> also: Isaac's sister Aline. Aline Dian. She's a singer. didn't even do this intentionally. just happened like this.


End file.
